


'I Love You' s as...

by Intrepid_Inkweaver



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: 100 Ways to Say I Love You Writing Challenge, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Rating May Change, Sickfic, This is so sappy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-16
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-18 03:30:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12379995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Intrepid_Inkweaver/pseuds/Intrepid_Inkweaver
Summary: Situations in which one might say 'I love you.'





	1. On a Sunny Tuesday Afternoon, with late Sunlight Glowing in your Hair

The sun is shining this Tuesday afternoon, and that in and of itself is enough to make the day seem oddly surreal. Sunlight in Gotham is something that’s probably on par with seeing a unicorn. You’re out chasing down some lead in the park, Jim crouched down near a tree studying the disrupted ground where you suspect a perp may have buried a weapon. When he straightens up and looks around, a warm breeze ruffles his hair and he stands there, haloed in sunlight, his eyes glowing so very blue. Your chest constricts in that way that’s become so familiar, but you can’t seem to convince your eyes to look away. He catches you looking and quirks a friendly eyebrow.

“What?” He asks with a little bit of laughter in his voice, “Is there something on my face?”

The dismissive, “Nothing, just lost in thought,” is what you mean to say, but it’s caught in your throat. You mean to look away, to walk back towards the car, but you don’t.

The quiet “I love you” falls from your lips before you can stop it.

The smile falls from his face to be replaced with an expression of shock. A moment passes before he asks “What?”

It’s soft--not angry, but the only way you can respond is, finally, to look away and say, “Nothing. It was nothing,” and flee back towards the car. You’re not sure if Jim is following or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely going to do more of these. Obviously, not all of them are going to be in second person POV.


	2. Loud, So Everyone Can Hear

Jim knew he’d had a lot to drink, but so had everyone else at the party. He was pretty sure Harvey had drunk more than he had, but he still seemed to be in better shape. Higher tolerance, Jim guessed. Damn him.

When Jim stood, he swayed on his feet a little and Harvey came around the table to steady him with a “Whoa, there, cowboy. You might wanna take it easy there. I’d prefer not to have to drag your ass to the emergency room because you fell over and knocked your head off of something.”

Jim leaned into Harvey’s chest with a grin, and it seemed a good idea to pat his cheek.

“You’re a good partner, Harvey, you know that?” he managed to say with a minimum of slurring. “I love you, brother!” he said, though it came out somewhat louder than he had intended. A couple people giggled nearby, though at what, he wasn’t sure. Harvey still had a hold of his arm, and Jim could make out a strange look on his face.

Quieter, Harvey responded, “Yeah, Jim, I love you, too.”  

 


	3. Over a Cup of Coffee

Jim and Harvey had been sleeping together for almost a year now. At first it had been an off-and-on, sporadic, spur-of-the-moment type of thing that Jim might have at first categorized as a mistake. He’d silently panicked the first time and had been prepared to make any kind of excuse to save their friendship. But Harvey had come to work smiling, and didn’t it didn’t seem to be bothering him any, so Jim took his cues.

The second time it happened, he vowed that they would talk about it. If this was going to be a recurring thing, they needed to discuss it. Every time he began to bring it up, though, Harvey would interrupt him with something else, talk over him, anything to change the subject. Eventually, Jim got the message and stopped trying.

The first time he’d stayed the night in Harvey’s apartment, he’d woken up content and comfortable and it had taken him a moment to remember that he was in Harvey’s bed with his partner’s arms wrapped around him. He’d been too tired to bother stressing about it and had fallen back to sleep to Harvey’s soft breathing.

He often had wondered what the parameters of their relationship really were. It took him an embarrassingly long time to take note of the soft way Harvey looked at him--especially when he didn’t think Jim could see him. And then there was the way he kissed him--like he was precious. The way he touched Jim throughout the day, the way he smiled at him and so many other things Jim hadn’t seen before. Some detective he was.

What had taken even longer was figuring out that he’d developed feelings for Harvey as well, somewhere along the way. He was happy. Content in way he hadn’t been in so very long. He caught himself smiling more often, returning Harvey’s affectionate touches, even watching him when he wasn’t looking. Coming to the conclusion that he was in love was only a matter of time, and ever since he had, the words had been burning in his throat, wanting to come out.

He had wondered how to say it. Worried about Harvey’s reaction. Imagined scenarios and everything, but nothing ever goes as planned when he’s involved.

They’re sitting at the kitchen table one morning on their day off, Jim sipping coffee while Harvey reads the newspaper and it’s so normal, so sweetly domestic, that something in Jim’s chest catches. The words seem to bubble up of their own accord, falling from his lips without his permission.

Harvey freezes for a moment and stares at him. When he gets up from his seat, Jim thinks he’s going to walk away without responding. What he actually does is come to Jim’s side of the table, grab his face and kiss him.

When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against Jim’s. “I love you too, putz,” He says softly. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever…” He trails off and glances away. Jim puts a hand on his cheek and pulls him back in for another kiss.

“Love you, Harvey,” he whispers against his lips.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one needs editing, I don't like the ending, but I'll do it later. I'm tired now.


	4. With a Hoarse Voice, Under the Blankets

Harvey is dying a cruelly slow and painful death alone here in his apartment.

That’s what it feels like at any rate.

He can’t breathe through his nose, his throat feels like it went three rounds with a porcupine (and lost), his head feels like it’s in a vice and it feels like someone took a hammer to every single one of his joints. Not to mention his eyes getting watery and ending up gumming themselves up during the night. God, he hates it when that happens.

His apartment’s drafty, and he’s needed another blanket for at least several hours now, but he hasn’t managed to convince his body to get up and go over to the closet to dig one out. He’d almost dragged himself to work that morning, but as soon as he’d got out of bed he’d got the chills and had to fight off a dizzy spell, so he figured they could do without him for a day--or if this kept up, maybe two.

Hanging in a haze of misery, he’s not aware of what time it is until a knock sounds at the door. It feels like it’s pounding on his skull, so he rolls over and puts a pillow over his head. If it’s important they’ll come back. They knock again and he growls, “Go away.” The knocking stops and, satisfied, he rolls back over under the blankets. The silence doesn’t last long, however, as he hears a key in the door and someone coming through. He briefly wonders if he’s going to need to grab his gun before Gordon appears in the bedroom doorway, several shopping bags on his arms.

“You look like shit,” he says.

“Thanks, you too,” Harvey mumbles, half into his pillow. Gordon shakes his head and carts his shopping bags out to the kitchen. He can hear him puttering around out there, so he decides to (finally) get up and go see what he’s up to.

Jim glances up from whatever he’s doing when Harvey shuffles out. “You didn’t have to get up,” he says as Harvey slumps into a chair at the kitchen table. It feels like it might be a while before he has the energy to get back up again.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“Tuttle told me you were out with the flu. Thought I’d come over and check in on you.”

“Ain’t that sweet. I think I’m dying, so you may want to at least wear a mask while you’re here.”

The microwave beeped just then and Jim pulled out a container of something and set it in front of Harvey. “I brought you some chicken noodle soup,” he said with a grin. “I got it at that place that’s run by that really bitchy guy that everyone’s a little bit afraid of.”

“Oh yeah, the one that’ll refuse to give you anything if you talk to him wrong or whatever,” Harvey said, pulling the cover off the container and attempting to sniff it’s contents. His nose was too messed up to smell it though. As he began to eat, Jim seated himself across from him with his own container.

By the time he was done eating, he was starting to lag again. The ceiling light was glaring in his eyes and his headache had renewed it’s efforts in crushing the brain in his skull. Jim noticed and said, “You should go lay down. You look miserable.”

“I don’t think miserable’s quite a big enough word for it,” Harvey groaned, standing up to retreat back to his blessedly dark bedroom. He could hear Jim cleaning up out in the kitchen and the noise was oddly comforting. He fell into an uneasy sleep listening to it.

When he woke, it was because there was a noise near the bed. He glanced over to see that there was a fresh glass of water on the nightstand along with a sinus pill. Jim was leaving the room. “Hey,” Harvey called. “Would you grab me a blanket from the closet?”

Jim nodded and rummaged in the closet before coming back to drape it over him. Harvey sighed and pulled it up further. “Love you, partner,” he said hoarsely, without even realizing that what he’d meant to say was ‘thanks’. He closed his eyes without seeing the smile that pulled at Jim’s lips after he said it.

“Feel better, Harvey.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I made a Seinfeld reference in this one. I don't even like Seinfeld. That episode was funny though, I'll admit.


End file.
